Phanniemay 2016
by monocheshaa
Summary: A collection of oneshots for each day of the Phanniemay calendar. Day 11: Folklore; Sam remembers her grandmother's words echo in her memory.
1. Day 1: Origins

**Guess who's participating in Phanniemay this year :D Today's Day 1: Origins, and I wanted to do it on the AU of Danny fully dying in the portal accident instead of becoming just a halfa. As much as I'd wish, I am no Butch Hartman (*internal screaming*) and therefore do not own Danny Phantom (*more screaming*)**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Cheshire**

* * *

Go in the portal, they said. You definitely won't die, they said. It'll be cool, they said.

Yep, Danny definitely died. And it was definitely not cool.

Well, he thought he did. He was floating as if in an out-of-body experience, he was sure that being shocked with over ten thousand volts of electricity should've at least accelerated his now nonexistent heart rate, and Danny was ninety-percent positive that seeing his own charred, horribly marred corpse smoking on the floor was not the norm. In the end, Danny guessed that at this point, he was dead.

Then again, he lived in a family of ghost hunters and supernaturalists. The fact that Danny didn't realize this immediately said that he was pretty out of it.

Well. This sucked immensely.

"Danny! Oh my god, Fenton, wake the fuck up or I'll _make_ you wake up!"

He tried to vaguely swim his way down next to Sam; it felt like he was floating on water, he might as well treat the air like a pool. Except he could breathe. Oh wait, he was dead, haha. Did he mention he was dead? Yeah, Danny Fenton was dead and he was slowly starting to realize the fact that he was _deaddeaddeaddeadohmygodhediedohmyeffinggodhediedtherewasnoturningback_ -

"Jesus Christ, Danny! Is that your ghost?! Dammit, are you a ghost? Oh my go-"

"Tucker, shut the fuck up and help me call him down!"

"You can't just _CALL_ down a ghost, they aren't on speed dial! He's _literally_ floating, we just need to pull him down-"

Danny blinked. Their words were starting to blur in his mind. English was starting to become blurry, actually.

"What's shitty enough in this lab to grab a ghost and pull it down to his body?!"

"Stop fucking cussing, I'm so goddamn anxious we need to call an ambulance or get the Fentons or bury him in the backyard or-"

Sam punched Tucker's arm forcefully. " _Think,_ Tucker!"

Danny's best brother's face cringed as he wracked his brain to remember where that trinket might be. "G-Ghost Gauntlets! Yeah! Mr. Fenton was talking about a prototype or something-"

Mr. Fenton...? Blurry, blurry...

"Where?!" Sam demanded, ripping open every drawer and cardboard box.

"I-in the cupboard, over there!"

 _"SPECIFICITY WOULD BE FANTASTIC SINCE THERE'S A FUCKING DEAD BODY, FOLEY!"_

Tucker shot up and wrenched open a cabinet next to the Fenton control panel. What was a Fenton, anyway? What was a cabinet...?

"Here!" Tucker shrieked, shoving the skeletal metal gloves over his hands and sprinting (Danny had a feeling that didn't happen too much) towards the spirit of his dead friend. He dug the needle-like fingers into Danny's ankle and dragged the ghost to the limp body of Daniel Fenton, then with a boost of adrenaline, shoved the specter into the body.

...Tucker, what did you do to me? My foot hurts...

...What's a Tucker...?

...Limbs...?

...Lim _b . . . . . ._

 _' . . ._

 _. . ._

 _g_

 _d e a d_

 _h e l p_

 _m e_

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _. . ._

 _..._

 _ **AIR.**_

In a violent spasm, he sucked in as much oxygen as his lungs could take. His brain was fried he needed water oh my god I need air help help help 911 mom dad my body's failing help help help

 _"DANNY!"_ Sam and Tucker screeched. He coughed weakly and desperately nudged Tucker.

"A...air..."

"Tucker, go get somebody! Anybody! Call an ambulance!" Sam shouted, quickly starting mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Said boy rushed up the stairs and screamed for help.

"Danny, you're gonna be okay."

 _I'm gonna be okay._

"You're gonna be okay, Danny, I promise. Can you hear me? It's Sam. Keep breathing and for God's sake, don't fall asleep. I'm here, it's okay. We're here. Don't fall asleep."

 _Don't fall asleep. Sam. Sam's here. I'm gonna be okay._

"You're gonna be okay."

 _I just died._

"You're gonna be okay."

 _I_ died.

"Don't fall asleep, Danny."

 _I was a ghost._

"You'll be okay, I promise. Tucker's coming with help. Don't close your eyes."

 _I was a phantom._


	2. Day 2: FentonWorks

**I'm really sorry it's so short, but I honestly can't write on Mondays. Today's Day 2: FentonWorks, and I wanted to place it in the college days of Jack and Maddie :) since the last one was so Dannycentric, I wanted to sort of break away for a while before jumping back into an asston of Danny/Jazz dialogue tomorrow. DP doesn't belong to me *sob***

 **Enjoy ^^**

 **-Cheshire**

* * *

It was only a few days ago when Jack Fenton gave Maddie Turner a promise ring.

Now that she looked at it, it was cheesy but sweet; it constantly slipped off her finger because of how large and heavy it was, but it reminded her of Jack. Big, (socially) awkward, heavy, sweet Jack. And here she was now, looking up at the lowering sun, squished against the balcony rails by her boyfriend.

"Jack," she hummed, "what will we do after college?"

The proudly acclaimed ghost hunter blinked. "Hm?"

"What'll we do after college? Go our separate ways? Stay together?"

Jack flushed a bright scarlet. "Er...well, I was wondering...if you'd, uh, like to, uh..."

"Like to what, honey?" Maddie glanced up at him.

His baby blue eyes shifted nervously. "Um, well...I was hoping you'd stay with me. And, uh, get married."

Maddie blushed furiously. "Well, that's-"

"And then we'd start a family! Then build FentonWorks!" Jack crowed eagerly. "I've always wanted to start the family business off modern 'n new! This time, we'll do it right! Without weird glowing flowers and all that jazz."

 _Jazz,_ Maddie thought. _I like that word. Mentally noted._ "That...sounds great, Jack. Don't you seem a little rushed though?"

Jack paused in the middle of his rant, suddenly becoming very reserved as he thought of this notion. "Mm...well..."

Maddie smiled weakly. "How about we get married, then build FentonWorks first? I think that's a bit of a better compromise. Don't want to give up my figure yet, haha," she chuckled, and Jack clapped her shoulder. Her small figure shuddered from impact.

"Sounds great!" he boomed. "We'll tell Vladdie and get cards and call up Harry and rent a church-"

"Whoa whoa whoa, hon, we're not getting married _now_. And I don't think you necessarily _rent_ a church..."

"Aw, well, we'll wait a few years then. But _FentonWorks-_ " If Jack could fangirl, he just did. On a balcony. While squishing Maddie. She could no longer breathe.

Maddie sucked in some air before laughing. "In the near future, Jack. For now, work," she sighed, "and college."

"Yep. By the way, are you free tonight?"

"Hon, I got a ton of work to finish."

"Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"...Hey, you got anymore of that sick ectoplasm you picked up the other da-"

"Jack, love, let's go inside, it's cold."


	3. Day 4: Ember

**I'm really s** **orry for skipping Day 3: Road Trip, but I honestly can't think of any plotline that isn't some cliche version of The Fenton Menace ~_~' sorry guys. Speaking of Star Wars-themed episodes, happy Star Wars Day! May the Fourth be with you all :D I've decided that Day 1: Origins will be the longest chappie, as I just don't have the time to write out another long shot like that.**

 **For this shot, I've always wondered how Ember died (yes I know the wikia says that she dies in a house fire but), so hopefully this portrayed my headcanon well ^^ Also, sorry I've been putting a ton of cussing in my shots lately. It's mainly to emphasize panic and/or how tense the situation is.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Cheshire**

* * *

"Get down, bitch."

This was not a good day. Oh nonononono, this was not a good day.

First, her album goes bankrupt before release.

Second, her hair gets a terrible cut. Thanks, terrible salonist.

Third, she gets hit on by a freaking douchebag.

Fourth, she gets cornered and kidnapped. The latter was as far as she knew, however.

And this was all in one _day?_

"Get _up._ How many times do I need to tell you, ya 'lil shit?"

 _The more you cuss, the more I don't want to do anything you frickin' say,_ Ember thought darkly. Reluctantly however, she still shakily stood up.

The man grabbed her bound arms and shoved her into a leather-seated car. "Don't you make any noise, now, or I'll tighten up that gag for ya," he growled, slamming the car door and driving off the rough terrain to a smooth highway. Ember squirmed in her binds, fighting to keep the tears from falling. _Fuck these stupid ropes._

The seconds ticked by in her head as Ember's head bounced against the hard seat. _What'llhedowhat'llhedowhat'llhedo-_

The car abruptly stopped and she heard the car doors open, the rush of cold wind chilling her to the bones as a firm hand grasped her hair and yanked her out of the car. She squeaked at the sudden pain and the tears flowed out of her electric blue eyes, unruling sobbing finally breaking through. She can't do this. She can't do this. This was _Ember McLain and she can't do this-_

The man laughed as he threw her against the snow. "You think you're so good."

He kicked her side.

"You think you're so popular."

Straddled and choked.

"Nobody's gonna fucking _remember you_ , bitch."

 _Nononono-_

"Bye bye."

 _NO_

 __p_e_o_p_l_e_r_e_m_e_m_b_e_r_ **ME**_


	4. Day 5: Dance

Danny Fenton couldn't dance to save his afterlife.

Actually, make that most of the Fentons-it was practically genetic. Jazz's prom night ended in her ripping her dress after stepping on the edges of the cloth (and her date's feet) with surprisingly sharp stillettos; Jack and Maddie's wedding party almost ended in chaos when Jack tripped and almost fell on the food table; Maddie tried ballet in third grade before giving up once she broke her ankle when spinning. The youngest of the Fenton family was no exception.

Danny himself had given up on trying to learn how to formally dance (he could totally dance to hip hop, but swing dancing? Please). His sixth, seventh, and ninth grade teachers tried. Jazz tried. Valerie tried. Sam tried. Ida Manson had even tried to teach him _from her wheelchair._

Every single time he tried to put one foot in front of the other in some rhythmic manner, somehow Danny ended up almost killing himself/somebody.

But here he was now, in the middle of the Ops Center, trying to not break Sam's legs.

"You're doing it wrong, make Danny hold your shoulder, not your waist!" Tucker barked.

"You don't put your hand on your shoulder for _tangoing_ -Christ, Tuck, are you learning this on WikiHow?"

"Why would you ever accuse me of such-actually, yes."

Danny groaned. " _Dude._ "

Tucker shrugged. "The Internet never lies. And yes Sam, you always put the front foot first and then your partner's hand goes on the waist-"

"If you're such an expert, why don't _you_ do it?" Sam snapped, flinging Danny's arms off of her and shoving Tucker in front of him.

Then Tucker lost his footing because he's an amazing dancer, tripped and fell on Danny and kissed him then Sam laughed maniacally because she was totally expecting this to happen.

* * *

 **Guess who wants to troll by finally writing the Day 5: Dance at 10 at night :D and also had no idea how to end this but hey the Savant Par/Cyber Space ship is cute so why not thanks FallingNarwhals**

 **ALSO CIVIL WAR RELEASING IN THE U.S. TOMORROW *cries***

 **Hope you enjoyed :)**

 **-Cheshire**


	5. Day 11: Folklore

**Okay, so there will be no continuation to every oneshot/drabble. It's really just whatever day I can sit down and write about. Today's day is Day 11: Folklore. DP doesn't belong to me ; ;**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Cheshire**

* * *

When Sam was young, her grandmother told her something she will never forget.

 _Don't dabble in the supernatural if you know you cannot control it. Which you never can._

"We can control a part of the supernatural," Sam had countered. "We can make ghosts come out."

"Yes, babushka, but you cannot control who or what they are or if they can even go back from where they came from, now can you?"

Then the Fentons moved into town.

Sam loved her grandmother, she truly did. But her childlike mind couldn't wrap itself around the fact that her grandmother could be lying; the Fentons could control the supernatural. They could make them go back and bring out specific people whenever they wanted.

Ida Manson would always look upon the unsightly house scornfully for this.

"One day, they will have their justice," she would murmur. "The dead should be left in peace, not experimented on."

Sam would look up at her grandmother's scowling face.

"You know, babushka, there's a legend that Amity Park despises those who disrupt its peace," Ida sighed. "I bet you that those Fentons will get a taste of Amity Park's own supernatural side. If that family wants to delve too deeply into what should not be disturbed, then let them become ghosts themselves."

* * *

When Sam pulled her friend's smoking body out of the sparking portal, she realized that her grandmother's old wives' tale was more than it seemed.


End file.
